


The Dawn

by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)



Series: Holly's Round Eight H/C Bingo Card [64]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Imprisonment, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 05:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13047495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hollyandvice
Summary: Arthur is coming; Merlin recognizes the cadence of his steps as easily as the sound of his mother's voice. As he hears his prince approach, he knows down to his bones that he's not going to make it out of this one in one piece.Merlin is imprisoned for sorcery, not through his own carelessness, but through the conniving work of another sorcerer. This time, it's up to Arthur to free his manservant from an untimely demise. They still have so much to do.





	The Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> So, I only ever made it about partway into S3 of Merlin before I bailed. I guess I'm hoping dabbling in the fandom might encourage me to go back and finish the series? I dunno, y'all. But anyway, this definitely won't match the later canon because I'm just not familiar with it. Apologies for that!!

Merlin supposes he shouldn't really be all that surprised. In a certain sense, he'd always known the day would come that his warlock identity would be uncovered. He'd always known, he'd just also always hoped it would come after he'd had time to talk Arthur around to his way of seeing the world.

And then, to be perfectly fair, he'd also always expected to have his identity uncovered due to his own magic and carelessness, not a ploy by another magic-user.

But, in the end, the reasons don't truly matter. What matters is that Arthur _knows_ —or, well, thinks he knows—and there's nothing Merlin has the strength to say or do to save himself this time.

The dungeons are as cold as he remembers them to be. The cold iron binding his ankles together and his wrists behind his back doesn't help. But the stillness and the quiet… that helps. That reminds him that he's at least alone, that no one can hurt him right now except for Arthur, and Arthur, at least, is likely to be merciful when he calls for Merlin's death. Uther may think that having Arthur decide the punishment will make it worse for Merlin, and though some part of Merlin knows it will gut Arthur to have to make this decision, the rest of him knows that Arthur will not be vindictive. Not in this. Not in his death.

Time stops meaning anything this deep below the ground. He can feel the earth pulling at him, urging him to escape, to free himself from his bindings and his chains. A part of him is tempted to concede, to give in and follow along and be free. But the rest of him knows that his only happiness comes from serving Arthur, and if he can't have that, his life has no meaning. So he sits and he waits and he wonders and that passes the time well enough.

Even through the sound of clanking armor, Merlin can make out the sound of Arthur's feet against the stone. Arthur is coming; Merlin recognizes the cadence of his steps as easily as the sound of his mother's voice. As he hears his prince approach, he knows down to his bones that he's not going to make it out of this one in one piece. He bows his head, terrified that looking into Arthur's eyes might weaken his resolve to stay quiet in the face of the inevitable interrogation. Arthur's feet come to a stop just outside Merlin's cell, and Merlin finds it altogether too easy to sink into the certainty that this is it, his life is as good as over and there's nothing to be done for it.

He closes his eyes and waits.

"Leave us."

Merlin frowns. It's not the words that he'd expected Arthur to speak, and he's not sure what they mean. He has to swallow down the need to ask Arthur to explain, the need to understand what he's thinking. His prince will tell him in time.

"I said leave us."

"But my lord, your father—"

"Has bid you bring me to the sorcerer that I might lay down his sentence. You have fulfilled that duty. Now, _leave us_."

There is a moment of silence, and then the sounds of armor retreating out of the dungeons clangs through Merlin's head like a death sentence. He draws a deep breath and releases it slowly, still keeping his head bowed to his prince.

Arthur doesn't speak until the sound of the guards' armor has retreated. "Merlin," he says, his voice soft and careful. Merlin doesn't move. "Merlin, look at me."

Merlin stays perfectly still, unable to react or respond.

"Merlin, look at me."

Realizing that Arthur is standing firm on this point, Merlin does the only thing that he can think of to meet his lord where he is. He shakes his head slowly, his eyes still firmly shut.

The sound of Arthur dropping to his knees in front of the cell, almost startles Merlin into opening his eyes and meeting the prince's gaze, but he holds the instinct back. He will not condemn Arthur to looking him in the eye as he tells him how he is going to die.

He won't do that to Arthur.

"By the gods, Merlin, please. We haven't much time."

Merlin grits his teeth on the desire to ask Arthur what he means. The words taste like bile on his tongue, begging to be spoken, but he won't. He won't.

"Merlin, please. I know you must have a plan somewhere in that fool head of yours. I need to you tell me what it is so we can get you out of this. I will not lose you to my father's vendetta. Tell me what I am to do, Merlin, to save you this time."

That is just astounding enough to have Merlin looking up at Arthur. "My lord?" The words slip from his mouth from instinct alone. He watches Arthur's face melt from terror to relief as though through a haze, unsure what Arthur is talking about.

"The magic," Arthur says, voice soft and firm. "I know that wasn't you. You're far too careful to be caught in such an obvious display."

Merlin feels his stomach drop. "My lord?"

Arthur's eyes go wide. "Come now. You didn't _really_ think I didn't know, did you?"

Merlin can't speak.

Arthur shakes his head. "We haven't time to discuss how long I've known about your magic," Arthur says, as though he hasn't just rocked Merlin's world to its foundations. "You must tell me how I am to free you."

Merlin blinks, feeling the idiot Arthur always accuses him of being.

All at once, Arthur seems to understand. "You don't mean… you don't mean to tell me you were simply going to allow my father to kill you, do you?"

"It is the price to pay for treason, especially in one so close to the prince."

Arthur makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. " _Treason_? Merlin, you have saved my life more times than I can count. How can that be _treason_?"

"Magic is forbidden in Camelot, my lord. Using it can be nothing but treason."

Arthur's face pales. "Then you truly mean to die."

Merlin can't find the words to respond.

Arthur makes that angry sound again and turns on his heel, storming out of the dungeons. Merlin isn't quite sure what that means, but something in his chest loosens with the knowledge that Arthur doesn't hate him. There's a tightness there too, coiling with the knowledge that somehow Arthur knows about his magic, has known for a great while, but that pales in comparison to knowing that Arthur doesn't hate him.

Merlin can die proudly knowing that truth.

——

When Arthur next comes to see him, it is with keys in his hand and a tightness in his face. He unlocks the iron around Merlin's hands and ankles and massages warmth back into the pained limbs. "We shall have to have a talk about your sense of self-preservation, Merlin," he says, voice low as though to hide his words from the guards that have brought him down.

"Sire?"

Arthur just shakes his head. "Come. We have an execution to witness." When Merlin doesn't immediately get to his feet to stand beside Arthur, Arthur reaches down to ease him upright. "Using magic to falsely accuse my manservant of sorcery is a crime deserving of swift judgment."

Merlin feels his knees go weak at the implication. It's only years of practice that have him replying with a thready "Of course, sire," and allowing Arthur to lead him from the dungeons. It is certain that they have much to speak about, but Merlin can't ignore the relief at knowing that they _can_ speak of it now. They have time—time Merlin had been certain was to be stolen from them, but time nonetheless. The smile that edges over Arthur's lips at his words feels like a balm and a blessing that Merlin doesn't deserve for the years of lies and half-truths, but he will take it all the same. Merlin looks down to hide his answering smile. "Of course, sire."

"Good," Arthur says, his arm still strong around Merlin's back as he supports him toward the upper levels of the castle. "Then let us see to it that you are back in good health to serve your prince once again."

Merlin doesn't have the strength to laugh the way he wants to, but he cannot hide the small, pleased smile that spreads over his lips. "Yes, sire." It's answer enough to the unspoken fears and questions in his chest. They will be fine, the two of them, and they will make it through this too, in time.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'ed. Part of my Round Eight H/C Bingo Card. [Come hang with me on tumblr!](http://hollyandvice.tumblr.com/)


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